


Emptiness on a wall

by Straycatsareblack



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, F/M, Flirting, Having a past sucks, Light Angst, Pictures, Porn With Plot, Romance, Sexy Times, Smut, reader - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-15
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-23 19:23:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14940365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Straycatsareblack/pseuds/Straycatsareblack
Summary: Reader receives a call from an old friend. They meet in a bar, knowing exactly how this is gonna end. Or do they?





	1. Already flirting?

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt to write a fanfiction in english. All of the story is already written. I'll post parts II and III in the next days.

He came up around eleven, his green eyes searching around ‘til he met yours. A cornered smile appeared on his hunter face. You grinned a little, stirring your drink as he walked by, stopping just against the table.

“Hey you.”

“Hey.”

Your own voice sounded a little low pitched. Were you already playing the game? As he sat down, you threw a look at yourself in the mirrors behind him. Not bad, you thought. You got your attention back to your drink as the waitress came to him. _Beer night or whiskey?_ Whiskey it was. That didn’t meant a lot, except he needed to relax.  
“Rough day?” you asked before taking a sip.  
He sighted.

“You can’t even know.”

“On a hunt?”

“Was, in fact. Thing is fucking dead this time, I swear.”

“This time?”

He paused before he answered, getting rid of his jacket.

“As I said, you don’t even know,” he said as he dropped it on the back of his chair.

The waitress came back with the drink and posed it on a paper napkin, making the ice cubes shock and tint in the glass. The hunter thanked her and grabbed the glass between his fingers, then gave it a first shot. He raised his eyebrows, seeming impressed by the taste. As he swallowed, he closed his eyes, taking a second to appreciate the soothing effect.

“Well, that thing ain’t shit.”

“Yeah, chose the place because of their whiskey.”

“Nice touch.”

“Yeah, I always touch nicely.”

He laughed softly.

“Already flirting?”

“Always flirting, ”you corrected.

For the first time, you dared to meet his gaze over your drinks. He looked amused by you, holding his glass near his lips. An eyebrow raised, he fully smiled, showing his white teeth in the dark room.

“I was surprised when I got your call,” you confessed. “It’s been a life.”

“I know. I’m not really the keep-in-touch kind of guy. Get complicated as hell with the job. I’m sorry, you know.”

He really looked sorry. And a bit sad about it. You shrugged.

“Not really the calling-back kind either. Doesn’t bother me. Still, now that you’re here, I’m happy to see that you’re good. Wasn’t really worried, but…”

“Gotcha. It’s fun to see that we are both still alive. “

“Maybe with a few more scratches.”

“If you show me yours, I’ll show you mine.”

Saying that, the hunter stretched out his arms, then rested his elbows on the table, his glass passing again from one hand to the other. You noticed that he looked tired, maybe more than usual. You swept the comment with a wink before you took a sip: you felt yourself begin to loosen up, thanks to the alcohol.

“How is Sam?”

The brother was a friend of yours, so your inquiry was sincere. When you had texted back your bar partner to plan your meeting, you had thought about asking him to bring the little bro (even if nothing of him was little in any way, as far as you knew), but fast enough forgot that idea : this wasn’t supposed to be a family-friend reunion. Still, the whiskey drinker knew you were giving a special affection to his brother, somewhat nearly maternal, even if you were about the same age. He took a long breath.

“He’ll be ok. He got himself some ribs broken recently, so he’ll be sitting at the bunker watching series for a time.”

“Sorry for him.”

“I’ll tell.”

“Maybe I should bring him some soup or something someday.”

“Don’t think that's necessary.”

“Maybe I could bring him some pie too.”

“For Sam? That’s mean.”

“I know. I’m the mean kind.”

The man gaze got penetrating.

“You sure can be.”

Your smirk met his.

“You’re right. I would bring some for you too.”

“I wasn’t talking about the pie,” he specified.

“Me neither. “

You finished your drink and, as you clearly needed another, the hunter raised a hand to call back the waitress. He seemed to be holding back his move, as if something was holding his arm down. Nothing of course showed on his face, but you were used to this kind of behaviour.

“Not a hundred percent yourself, huh?” you asked gently.

Your friend frowned as he finished his drink.

“Maybe I got my shoulder dislocated earlier,” he admitted.

“Is it _Maybe I’m ok now_ , or _Maybe I need some more care_?”

He rubbed his front head.

“I’m undecided.”  
The waitress came back with the drinks. She was cute, with her youngster freshness, looking a bit naïve under her freckles. Her lips were wide opened on a large smile as she was putting the glasses on the table. Was she trying to get the hunter attention, bending to show her cleavage, her tight ass molded by her tight jeans? When you caught the laughing eye of the hunter, you knew he had noticed, and that you were right. You giggled together.

“Still successful with the girls, as I see,” you teased him as she was getting away.

“You’re not to be outdone. The bartender keeps looking at you.”

“Bill’s an old friend of mine. He’s just watching my back.”

“If you mean your lower back, I agree. And by the way, I’m not sure he’s all ok with the friendzone tag. “

You took a look over your shoulder and Bill suddenly began to rub glasses with a busy look. It was true : he was sending you some under glances. In the darkness of the place, his muscular forearms unveiled by the rolled sleeves of his white shirt, the mid-aged guy was looking good. You raised an eyebrow and turned back to the hunter, pouting your lips in sign of contentment.

“Seems like we’re the sexiest couple of the place,” you pointed out.

He nodded, agreeing.

“Not a bad feeling.”

You knew the hunter’s eyes were appreciating your upper body, you could feel it on your skin. You blushed. The few blades of dimmed light wouldn’t reveal it to the hunter, but anyway, you weren’t ashamed of it. In fact, you liked that he was still making you feel that way.

“And how are you?”, he asked, changing the subject. “How is _your_ job?”

“Oh, you know how it is. Patch a leg, put a Band-Aid on a face. Repel soldiers’ advances.” You grinned. “Sometimes.”

“I am supposed to be jealous?”

“Oh yes.”

“Good for you. “

He got a bit nearer you upon the table. You leaned over to get nearer too. You could still smell the soap under his really male cologne ; he must had showered just before he got here. God, he smelled so good.

“You are on permission?”

“Yep. Couple of weeks before I fly back.”

“That’s a long one. You’re alright, Stray Cat?”

Stray Cat. You’d always thought those nicknames were so cheesy. He probably had a _Cherry pie_ , a _Bubble gum_ and a _Honey butt_ in every states of the USA. At least, yours was kind of badass. And he was worried about you, so you obliged, leaning your head on the side, stirring again your drink.

“Yeah. Had to heal up from an accident implying a rooky, a trench and a gun. You kinda had to be there. ”

“Were you gunshot?”

You shook your head to reassure him and a few strands of hair escaped from your loosen bun to frame your face.

“Nah. Only some bruises and a concussion. I’m ok.”

The hunter reached out to grab one and let it slowly slide between his index and middle finger. His expression was so serious, all of a sudden.

“Happy to hear it,” he said, something bitter in his voice.

“You don’t believe me.”

“No, I don’t.”

The strand escaped of his hand. You bit your down lip and sat back on your seat, looking down to your drink.

“I’m just tired of being so far. I miss home.”

He nodded slowly. He couldn’t understand, but he was good at listening. Since you weren’t full of friends to talk to, it was comforting. You downed your drink, leaning your head backward to get you full of it. After you swallowed, you scratched a bit your eyebrow, a little embarrassed by the confession. That, and by the fact that the hunter fronting you wasn’t able to take his eyes off you. The waitress came back, five shooters of an amber liquor on her plate.

“From Bill,” she specified, posing them on the table.

“Huh. That’s sweet…and unexpected,” you kinda thanked the girl.

Cocky, your companion took one and raised it to salute the barman, exaggerating a happy look. Boys and toys, you thought. As it was custom, you drank your first with the waitress. You felt the burning liquid downing your throat – _ooh, scotch!_ –and had an inside laugh about her disgusted grimace. _So young_. She coughed a little and posed her hand on your guest’s shoulder. _But not stupid_.

“You’re okay, Cutie?” he asked her as noticing her hand, nothing about the hotness of the drink showing on his face. You weren’t impressed : the guy must had burned every taste buds in there.

“Yeah!” she answered while wiping her mouth with her wrist. “Can’t shoot that stuff.”

“Ah, you gotta learn to shoot your scotch before trying to shoot anything else, sweetheart.”

She forced a laugh, totally understanding what he was implying, and wished you good night. Her shift was over. She hadn’t turned her back yet that the hunter winked at you, taking his second shooter in his hand.

“After this one we should be going, or I won’t be able to go anywhere,” he warned.

“You wouldn’t get drunk even I you wanted to,” you scoffed.

He lifted up the shooter.

“Could want to be at my best,” he said.

You smiled back and cheered, gently shocking the little glasses. You both drank, looking each other in the eyes, and shared the pleasure of that last drink, feeling the spark ignite between you two. Before he could make a move, you grabbed what left of his whiskey and downed it too.

“Hey, I was about to finish that.”

You wiped your mouth with your thumb and grabbed your purse.

“Come on. We’re leaving.”

“Not against it, Cat, but shouldn’t we pay first?”

“They’ll put it on my bill.”

The hunter looked over your shoulder as standing up, nearly waving at the barman, then back at you.

“On your Bill, huh?” he kidded you, stressing the syllable so you could catch his joke.

“Shut up,” you simply answered as heading to the exit, not before mimicking a quiet thank you to the barman, noting his clenched jaw and his angry-reticent goodbye sign. _Interesting. The hunter must be right._

Soon, you were outdoor on the chill night of spring, walking side by side, hands in your pockets but really near one from another. As you were siding the building, you realised no one had mentioned were you were going : you were kind of just following the path. It was okay with you. The night was beautiful and the idea of walking side by side with your friend was more than pleasant.

Although, as you reached the alley, the hunter suddenly turned left and sharply pulled you toward him. With a gasp, you oddly missed a step and lost your balance, kinda bumping into the man. A laugh escaped from his lips and you realised he had hung up by your waist to prevent you from falling. The alley was dark, you were alone together, his back was against the brick wall. You looked your hands on his chest, between the layers of leather jacket and flannel. For a second, you were just breathing against each other, feeling the slow burn fire building inside. Slightly touching, snuggling in the silence of the night. And then, suddenly, a little by chance, you met his eyes. And the fire quickly grew big. And hot. Without warning, as in a rush, the hunter tugged you and just seized your mouth with his.

Wait was over. _Couldn’t have stood it much longer anyway_ , you thought, before totally digging it. He was starving for you, holding you as if you were about to run. You weren’t. He was hot. Physically hot. You were freezed and his body was warming yours as you pressed yourself against it. You grabbed his jacket to get him nearer, jacked yourself on your tip toes to get more. He pressed his lips against yours, archly, needy. You loved it. Finally, you were tasting it. Lips. Mouth. Tongue. Everything was whiskey and sugar, spices and salt. Everything smelled him, leather, soap, cologne. You were shaky and his scent was inebriating you even more. God, it felt good. You passed an arm behind his neck, trying to be even more on him– it was impossible. You two were almost one, his hands tight on your hips, grabbing you, roaming on your body, recalling your body – every parts of it. You were melting under his touch, under that burning hand that was slipped under your shirt, on your back, trying to find a way to caress your skin. A long chill caught your spine and he let your mouth go, only to realise you were both panting.

His eyes were gleaming. He kissed your forehead, your hair ; his mouth got really near your ear and his warm breath swept your neck.

“My car or yours?”, he whispered.

Your hand went down on his chest and you gently pushed him away. His gaze was full of incomprehension as you slightly stepped back : he was unsettled by your move.

“Actually,” you reassured him with a kind voice, “this time I thought we could go to my place. Wanna walk me home?”

He slightly frowned and bit his lips. You realised his hand was still holding you by the wrist, so you took another step back and he followed.

“Okay, Cat,” he said.

He let you some space and walked by your side as you left the alley and headed to a residential district.


	2. Another way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the hot part...but, this time, you're not gonna settle for a quickie on the baby's back seat. This time, you're gonna do this your way. And he's gonna enjoy it. A lot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost done! Only a chapter left. I'm gonna post it tomorrow. Enjoy!

Five minutes later, you were climbing up the stairs to your apartment. Seeing him into the stairwell was kind of awkward, but there he was, waiting for you to stop in front of a door. As he walked you to the top floor, you finally did, and he leaned on the wall while you got your key into the lock. He couldn’t look more awesome, there, the pale light of the moon revealing the complicated angles of his face. The three days old beard. The dimple in the chin. The regularly bitten pulpy lower lip. The eyes. The green vivid eyes, that were looking away, not aware of your glance. Lost in a complicated mind. There was something soft up there, you could have swear it, even if he wasn’t showing it very often. What a man, you thought.

He suddenly turned back to you and surprised your glance. You jumped and giggled a little : his smile enlightened the corridor. You opened the door and stepped in. Your home was smelling like fresh laundry. You turned on the vestibule light and invited him in as you were taking off your jacket. One second later, he was bending to unlace his boots, and you were untying your heels. Putting them side by side was strange and you considered it, arms crossed. It was only two pairs of shoes on a welcome mat : for you, it was one the weirdest thing. 

The hunter moved forward to your living room. All of it was bathed in the moonlight from your huge windows, giving your things an unreal touch. He looked around on your pictures, on your books, on everything about you he could find, while you were pouring liquor from your own supply. You joined him as he was looking a picture of you and some soldiers leaning on a tank in Afghanistan. You handed him the drink.

“That was the hell of a summer,” you commented, pointing the image with your glass.

He nodded. You sighed, looking at those boys around a younger you. They were all dead. You were alive. And you could easily drink to that. You did, then stepped away to get to the window. Down there, bars were closing and freshly made couples were looking for a follow-up plan. A warm hand landed on your shoulder, another on your waist. You felt yourself slightly pulled backward, bumping a solid chest right behind you. Soon enough, a mouth started a road of kisses on you neck, on your collarbone, on your shoulder. A pleased sigh escaped from your lips and you could feel the hunter grin on your skin. Hands were again running on you, under your clothes, trying to get nearer, to found something. As he grabbed you a little rough, you lightly took his wrist in your hand.

“ What is it?”, he asked you, sounding concerned and a bit frustrated. “You’re not in the mood anymore?” 

You smiled and turned around. The hunter, in front of you, was clearly mistaken about your intentions. You put your glass on a coffee table and slightly brushed his face. 

“Maybe we could try another way. Do you want to?”

“What kind of way?”

“Mine.”

Your friend clearly needed a hint, so you upped yourself and lightly pushed your lower lip against his, a little teasy. Nothing wrong with feeding the beast, right? He answered with hesitation, staying still, concentrating on your lips, on your tongue lightly taunting him. That was good. When you felt him relax, you took his mouth with yours. It was soft, smooth. Better. You insisted, letting your tongue out to reach his, slowly. He adapted to your rhythm. Under your hands, you could feel all of his muscle awaked but not in a work zone anymore, his breath getting more regular. More in synch with you. And, at a contrary, you could feel the tension coming back inside you. 

“That’s good,” you blew into his ear, your hand stroking the little hair where the neck meets the head. “Really good.”

You kissed his throat, making gently your way down to the collarbone. Your fingers were undoing the buttons of his flannel. He let you do so, his eyes closed, one hand resting on your hip. When you were done, you carefully undressed him, watching out for his shoulder. The bruises appeared from under his t-shirt : you very lightly kissed it. That was cliché, but how could you care? The man was hurt, and you were the best painkiller around.

The hunter cups your chin and lift it up, his face down to face yours. At the bottom of his green eyes, you saw it again. The tiredness. How could no one ever notice how tired of this life he was? He kissed you again, but not the way he used to, not like he did it in the alley. He really kissed you. Once more, with feelings. You felt him against you, all of him, with all his confusion, his responsibilities…his pain. You kissed back, taking some on you, taking it all on you. Kindly, trying to ease it. In a flash, he was holding you tight and you remembered that legend about someone holding the word on his shoulder. You were kissing that legend. Feeling the wet, warm touch of the myth. 

You slightly moved and backed a few steps. The hunter let you go, not leaving you out of sight though. As you kept looking at him, you took off your shirt, letting the satin-like fabric slide on your skin. He looked at you, followed the move of the clothing revealing your body, inch by inch, and followed the piece as it rolled onto your side to end on the floor. He was hypnotised. You knew the shadow was drawing sceneries on you bare chest, arms and stomach. You knew that right now, he was amazed by you. You felt beautiful. Empowered. You could feel your femininity hit in his gaze. 

Slowly, you took off the pin of your hair and shook them loose, letting it fall on your shoulders, cascade on your back. They were curling all around you face. You lifted up your chin and smiled at him.

“Come on,” you said, taking him by the hand. 

He followed you as you pulled him into the bathroom. You didn’t bothered turning the lights on : the moon was enough. You slid your hands under his gray shirt and, after a shared glance, passed it over his head. He started to kiss your neck as you were undoing your pants. His hands got lost in your hair, his mouth stuck on yours. You undid your bra, dropped your panties. Clothes were piling at your feet. Without breaking the kiss, you managed to find the shower door and made it slid. Again, tearing you away from his embrace, you stood back and got into the cabin, showing him your back. Again, he waited, detailing you with his eyes. You could feel them slowly licking your bare skin, your shoulder, the line of your spine, your ass. Especially your ass. You turned the buttons of the shower and let the flow of hot water hit you. The drops of water rolled over your body, capturing the moonbeams as they passed, glittering all over you. You heard the hunter when he got rid of his pants and underwear and soon, you could feel him behind you. He was right behind, the heat was emanating from his skin, but he wasn’t touching you. He was there, just…feeling you. Scenting you. Slowly, he posed both of his hands on the shower wall. You were encaged by his strong arms… and happy to be. Then hunter bent a bit, his face getting really near your cheek. His breath was gently, regularly brushing it, for long, long seconds. You sighed, almost moaned. Unable to hold yourself any longer, you flipped and kissed him right under the shower spray. 

Once tired of contenting yourself with his lips, your mouth followed the path of your hands on his body. The neck, the harmed shoulder, the chest – god, what a chest he had – the stomach… He was breathing hard in expectation, looking as you were slowly getting down on his body. Soon, you were on your knees, caressing his thighs and grabbing his firm ass, gently ignoring his excitation. You were letting your hands go just above it, on his lower abdomen, just on the side of it, on the groin. You were driving him nuts and having fun doing it, feeling him breathing and turning crazy by your teasing touch. He said you were mean : you didn’t want to disappoint him.

Just as he was about to lose control, you pulled out your tongue and licked your way up his length. You counted the seconds before reaching the tip of it. God, that excited you. You were suddenly more turned on than he was: feeling his silk skin on your lips provoked a wet rush between your legs. You slightly opened your lips and pushed his dick in. Up there, the sound of gratefulness was obscene, but so, so good. Bringing your hand there to help, you grabbed his junk and began to stroke it, getting his reaction, waiting for him to breathe out before making your next move, noting when he was holding it. From this square of skin to that other one, you were touching, licking, sucking as he liked it. You only followed the pattern of his arousal and of your imagination, encouraged by the words coming out from his swollen lips. Those were dirty, but not quite as you were. When you grabbed his balls with your mouth, your hand still on his cock, he couldn’t help but groaning his pleasure out. The steam on the shower walls wasn’t coming only from the hot water anymore. 

You took his dick back in your mouth and started working him for good, letting him no chance to escape your lust. You were blowing his dick, blowing his mind, blowing everything out. At one point, too excited to wait, you started to rub yourself and the vision of it was just too much for the hunter to bear. With a throat growl, he escaped your mouth and exploded on your breasts with a croak noise. You saw him as he almost knocked his head on the dripping walls as he was pulsing in your hand, panting and swearing from the effort. Still on your knees, you blow a breath out, looking down, one hand resting on his shaking leg. For a long minute, you stayed there, just…feeling good, as a breathless man was coming back from what you had done to him. Oh yeah. You were proud.

After a moment, hands got on your shoulders and made you stand up. His amazed look made you smirk. You loved the touch of mixed feeling in the green eyes. You loved how you made him crazy.

“ Satisfied? “, you asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Not even close.”

You kissed. He kissed you. Whatever. You let yourself go wild in his arm. His mouth on you, following the road of the water, was so hot, so good. His hands, his fingers were running on your skin and made you shiver in the steam. He kissed you on your neck, then right behind the ear. Without you noticing it, you were grabbed his shoulder, keeping him head close to yours as he explored your anatomy with his hands, curve by curve. Each time you would breath, moan, grunt, he would give more attention, watching your reaction, or letting it go to come back when you would least expecting it, just to tease you. His ear really near you mouth made you want to bite it, but you were afraid he’d stop : he was just about to get there. Just about. Just about…

“Come on,” you plead out.

“I just wanna play fair,” he whispered in your ear, licking the lobe in his way. “Do you want me to go there just yet? “

Just as he said that, his finger brushed along your folds, from down to up, not pushing enough to touch your warm and wetness. You gasped.

“Do you want me to do what you just you did to me? To play it your way? “

Your blow escaped your mouth. You needed the friction, you wanted him to be in you, inside you. But he was holding you back. It was his turn to play, to grin. He let his palm come down, covering your center, and then came right up, his middle finger slightly splitting your skins apart. That was torture.

“Yes,” you moaned. “Yes, yes. Come on. Yes.”

He laughed wholeheartedly and kissed your cheek just before sliding his forefinger against your clit. You were so turned on that the contact was almost painful. You moaned loudly, swinging your head backward, tilting back your ass as trying to escape the intense touch on your too aroused self. You felt him leaning you against the shower wall, keeping you with his weight from escaping, from moving, just as he slid two fingers inside you. You closed your eyes.  
You core was dripping more than the shower as he was moving inside you. Slowly. In, and back. His eyes were not even an inch from your face. In, and back. Each time he made his way he was brushing you clit, kissing your reddish lips, your throat, your breasts. Each time was a pure moment of delight.  
In…and back.

To tease you, he used the tip of his tongue to tickle your nipple, round it, following his move down there and the indications of your excitation. Without knowing it, you started to move toward him, giving him the right rhythm, the right inclination. He moved his arm to hold you better, grabbed your lower back and lift you slightly, stopping your motion. His turn to be in control, you remembered. You met his eyes in an intense gaze. 

In…and back.

He got back to your boobs and grabbed one in his mouth, sucking the nipple with fervour. His moves inside you changed then. They intensified, tilted in that special angle, the one that was driving you crazy. You couldn’t repress a violent cry when he hit your g-spot. That was just it. Your body stiffens, but he kept a sharp beat, his mouth tracing a path on your chest, licking, sucking, biting even. You were lost in that universe of stimulation, of your body slowly reaching the peak, by the burning sensation in your abdomen. That was too much. Fucking too much.

In and back. In and back. In and back.

“I…I’m gonna…”, you panted. 

“It’s ok. I gotcha.”

He kissed your neck one more time before lifting his head, brushing your nose with his for you to open your eyes. When you did so, he was so near you, so on you, so in you, he was everywhere. Yeah, he was totally getting you. And he wanted to see you benefiting of him getting you. And with a last hit of his fingers, you gave it to him. It was so violent that you couldn’t keep yourself from shutting right back your eyes. Everything of you tensed up, your nails got stuck in his flesh as your walls clenched long and hard around him. For a second, you stopped to breathe and the room started to spin. You were drowning. And that was perfect. 

He finally sled out of you and just hold a shaking yourself in his arms. Your sexy partner gently rubbed your back. The room slowly got back into place : you looked at him and smiled. 

“Your amazing,” he said.

“I know.”

Suddenly, a harsh and glacial flow of water hit you and you both screamed out of surprised. With a laugh, you rushed out of the shower while the hunter fight to turn off the tap. Soaking the floor, you ran into the corridor but he caught you by your waist and tugs you toward him as you giggled.  
“You’re gonna slide and break your neck,” he warned as he kissed your ear.

“Nah. I’m a stray cat. Still have plenty of lifes,” you kid. 

You grabbed his mouth with leisure, all tongue and lips. Just the sight of his body was enough to make your lust build again. He grabbed one of your boobs, gently rubbing the tip of it with his thumb and you sight inside his mouth.

“Too tired?,” he asked as he detached from the embrace.

“You wish.”

He leaned a little to get his lips near your ear.

“Go to your room and wait for me there”, he commanded.

Curious, you tried to catch his eyes but he disappeared in the bathroom. Unhurried, you made your way to your room, followed by the sound of the water from you hair dripping to the floor. The door was opened and the bed was perfectly made, stigmata of your work in the forces. Thick, opaque curtains were closed and the only light was coming from behind you. You got in, your feet welcomed by the soft and fluffy rug. You always liked that feeling on your feet and you let your toes gently rub against it, liking the thrill it caused you.

“Having fun?”

The naked man was leaning against the door, one of your white towels in his hand. You turned your face to him, smiling, and dragged a foot up to your calf as you were a timid, innocent girl. He probably was thinking you were cute ; his amused look told you so. Still, the sight of your round ass, where you nonchalantly let your hand fall, helped him keeping your sexiness in mind. Calmly, he walked into the room, but passed straight in front of you, heading to the window. In a sharp movement, he drew the curtains open. The flow of light from the declining moon hit you and revealed all the curves of your body, making you even rounder in all the right places. All that woman beautifulness was reflecting in his eyes as he was staring at you in the backlight of the night. In a second, he was fronting you, brushing a finger on your cheek.

“Let’s dry you out a bit first, shall we?”, he suggested.

You nodded. Gently, he coated your hairs in the towel to blot it. That was soft, careful. He was taking care of you, of your wellbeing, trying not to pull or tangle it. When an adventurous drop would escape on you face, on you neck, on your shoulder, he would kiss it away. Soon, it became a game, a sparking game on your body. His mouth would follow the droplets everywhere. On your arms. On your back. The long way down your spine. The hunter was hunting those water trails, replacing them by a hotter, slicky one. On your breasts. He kissed every freckle, every scar. He took his time with the big ones. The one on your ribcage. The one just above your wrist. The long one on your lower abdomen. 

He kneeled to kiss your knee, then the inside of your thigh. You doubt any water had made it way there, but that wasn’t important. The man in front of you was cupping your ass with both hands, kissing his way up to your core. That was important. Your breath began to get more profound again : you let your hands explore his still wet hairs, his large and bare shoulders, his muscular forearms. Moon and shadows were painting his body in your mind. New waves of excitation hit you and you felt the urge again, the need for him. You dropped a moan and he cornered smiled.

“I haven’t touch you yet, Cat, “ he said.

“Well, would you mind? ”

With a grin, he finally got there. He started by blowing on it only, making hot hair swept your folds. The guy knew how to make a women expect. Light kisses followed, only to explore your tender skin. Some were really near of your center, but some were totally elsewhere. Such a tease…Slowly, though, he started making it more profound, more intense. The move of his lips were dragging you open : one of your hands found support on the bed behind you. When you felt the fat tongue embracing you clit, you fisted the sheet. You were still so sensible…it seemed almost unfair. Sounds and words were fleeing out of your lips as he moved down there: you couldn’t even help it. He knew how to make it work, seizing your sensible parts with his whole mouth, exploring , getting sometimes help from a finger…from two…When he got a third one in you, you fisted his hair, grunting with no shame.

“God!”

Hearing you, he raised his head. You were not peaking yet, but you could feel it build and build inside of you. Still rubbing you gently, he stood up and pushed you back. In a second, you were lying on your back and the hunter was on you, roaming again on your body. Making a pause, he brought his head just above yours for a blazing eye-contact that last for a long time. A time where you caught it again. His real self. Was he seeing you that way? At this exact moment? Maybe, because just before he kissed you, he kind of hesitate and bit his lower lip : that was the sexiest move he did of all night. Right there, at that second, you couldn’t bare it anymore. You could feel his hard cock right at your entrance. You needed him so much to thrust inside you. To take you. To be with you, for real.

“I need you,” you whispered between two groans. “Now!”

In the same move, he kissed you with desperation and pushed himself in. Slowly, he made his way inside your most intimate part, stretching you carefully to his size. His length progressively deepened it way between you walls and the hunter moaned in your mouth. You modified the angle of your hips so he could push himself even further, making him bite your neck. Could he feel the new waves of wetness he was provoking inside you? Could he feel your need of friction, of fullness, right now? Surely…because he began to move.

“Son of a…”, he muttered. “Baby, you’re so good “

He was sinking into you as if he never did, discovering again the pleasure of your warmness, of your slickness. His fervor built up and what was a soft and smooth embrace became an urge full of lust and of desire. His thrusts were now impetuous, needy. Faster too, as his dick was becoming even more hard and thick. All of a sudden, he grabbed you in a strong grip and flipped you up so you were now on top. He slid his thumb on your clit and started again to gently circle it, a move that triggered a violent shiver of your spine. He wanted you to climb up now, to get there the same way he was. You appreciated it and responded by starting to rock your hips. You were riding him with strength and skills, knowing when to slow the rhythm, when to bring his lips to your breasts, when make him stroke your clit harder. You knew how to listen to his body, how to help him help you. In some way, you were making him dig even deeper inside yourself, in a sexual zone more profound, arousing. Out of a blue, you felt yourself so close, you couldn’t control your body anymore. A new move made him poke your g-spot and you clenched hard your jaw not to scream it out and he couldn’t help groaning loudly. Like his patience was over, his hands seized roughly your hips and he pulled himself almost completely, looking at you as he swiftly pushed back. That was it : you let out a sharp cry of pain and pleasure and all of your walls clenched around his dick. With a lot of moans and groans, he kept nicely thrusting during all the wave of your orgasm, and as it began to fade, you felt his dick twitch and pulse and a strong grunt resonated in the now silent room. Out of strength, you crashed on his chest and the sound of his powerful and fast heartbeat resonated into your ears. Or was it yours?

After a time, he brought a hand to tangle in your hair and the other to rest on your back.

“Enough for tonight?”, he asked.

“If you say so,” you answered.

But your eyes were already shutting down. Exhausted by effort and pleasure, you blurred into a dreamy land as the sun slowly raised in the rainy sky.


	3. The morning after is always akward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mistakes were made...a lot of, actually. They never talked about it, but maybe this morning after will reveil a bit more than bare skin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Comments and kudos are appreciated if you likes my work.

Sunbeam on your nose made you open your eyes to the new day. You were facing the window, wrapped in the warm sensation of the light on your skin. You yawned and rubbed your eyes with the back of your hand. Slowly, images from your dreams fade out to make places to the ones from your night. In a sudden move, you turned your head to face the other side of the bed.

                He was still there.

                The hunter was lying on his back, a hand under the pillow, the other one resting on his stomach. You smiled at his soothed expression. He seemed so calm, so at peace. So naked beside your body…With a shake of your head, you snapped yourself out the insidious idea that was building in the back of your head. With determination, you stretched and dragged yourself out of bed, grabbing his t-shirt on your way to the shower.

                Half an hour later – a girl need some time to come back after this kind of journey, you know – you were in the kitchen, enjoying a strong black coffee. God you were hungry. The fridge door was opened on it emptiness. Still, you had enough to fix eggs, bacon and toast. Bending to get those, you stretched your arm to take the eggs box. When you closed the door, the shoes came into your sight. You kind of had forgot about those during the night, forgot about that foggy feeling that was dissipating inside of you. Those shoes aligned were shocking. But why? You stood up and walked to the unlaced boots the man had left there. Again, why was it so weird to you? Men had walked in before – for sure, they had! – and never triggered this kind of kink before. Those shoes were  _calling_  you, for God sake.

With reserve, you observed them for a moment. Man boots in your kitchen. Just beside your heels. That sight was rolling in your mind. Without realizing it, you slowly lifted your foot and dropped it the large piece of leather and rubber. Your tiny toes were kind of lost in the footwear. You shook them, trying to get to the bottom. You couldn’t. Those were huge boots to wear, to say the least.

The sudder sound of the shower made you scare jumped and you sharply took your foot out the boot. The hunter was up. With a sigh of release, you walked back to the stove, your eggs still in hand, and opened a cupboard to grab a bowl. New hot coffee poured into your favorite mug, you got yourself to work. When the man in your guest robe came out to join you, still shaking out the droplets of his head with a towel, you were cooking a whole breakfast and a comforting smell of home food was floating all around.

“ Just for the record,” he said walking toward you, “what kind of life are you living to keep for-man soap, shampoo and robe in your bathroom? And I’m not even talking about the spare toothbrushes. ”

“I don’t know. How many women did wear this exact same t-shirt before me?”, you answered, pulling down with your fingers the shirt you took from him.

“Touché.”

His gaze followed your hand. The shirt was short, falling mid-thigh, and the move had dragged the hunter’s attention on your long legs, on your revealed skin. What could happen if you just leaned a bit over the stove to watch for the bacon, or bent to catch a chopping board? The idea played in your mind as you scrambled the eggs with a wooden spoon.

“Ooh, coffee!”, he exclaimed as he stole the mug from the counter and took a swig.

“Hey!”, you shout. “I was about to finish that. Plus, I left some for you!”

“You steel my whiskey, I steel your coffee,” he grinned, referring to your last-evening move.

You lightly blushed and turned back to your cooking stuff. You missed the light smile enlightening the hunter’s face, but not the way he stepped toward you and slid his hand on your waist, neither the soft kiss he dropped on your neck.

“That was quite a night,” he whispered in your ear.

“Huh-huh,” you nodded as you caught some plates.

“Never had a chance for a follow-up in the morning with you,” he pursued as his hand got down on your thigh, a clear idea in mind.

“It’s almost noon.”

“I don’t care.”

 “I’d rather eat first,” you cut him off, a plate in each hand.

The man shrugged and nodded, then took the plates from your hand, imprisoning you against the counter, and shamelessly tightenned his chest and arms against you in his way.

“You’re beautiful,” he sighed from behind, before he backed out to the kitchen table.

You took the orange juice from the fridge and grabbed two glasses before you followed him. On your way, you glimpsed at the glasses still full of alcohol from yesterday. You totally had forgotten about those. Your guest must had stole a part of your mind…Your attention got back to the table, only to realise your friend had put the plates on the same side of it. That was weird for the least : doesn’t people usually sit in front of each other? Anyway, you put the jug and glasses on the table and sat next to the hunter, who was about to dig in, but was polite enough to wait for you.

“Thank you for cooking all that,” he said. “I’m starving.”

“ ’Nothing.”

After a wink but without further ado, your companion stuffed two pieces of bacon in his mouth. You took yourself some fair amount of eggs and bit with appetite into your toasts. During a quiet while, you were both busy contenting your stomach, not caring too much about table mate. Food was good – you could cook…not a lot, but eggs were easy – and it was pleasant not to eat alone for once. Your glass of juice in hand, you were drinking with delight when a large warm palm posed on your bare thigh. The hunter, an empty plate in front of him, was looking right at your soul.

“You’re ok, Cat?”

You locked your eyes with his. Those eyes were recalling a lot. Almost too much. But you stood it and smiled.

“I’m more than good. You? Did you had enough?”

You pointed his plate with your chin, but he didn’t follow. His eyes were stuck on you. He raised an eyebrow and mechanically licked his lips.

“Never.”

Suddenly, the amused sparkle in his face left for a more serious expression. His hand left your thigh to slide a finger on your chin.

“You really put a spell on me, last night.”

The sound of his voice was lower than usual. He frowned, almost worried.

“Stray cat…”, he said in a tone you’ve never heard coming from him, “what have you done to me?”

“I’ts called a fellatio. F-e-l…”

In a sec, his lips were on yours. Just a little more than a peck, just enough to shut you up. Just enough to twist your stomach in all the good way, but it last for less then a second : he backed off, only to show a concerned look.

“Stop joking,” he warned. “I mean, I was used to our little flings. But this…”

Again, he was caressing your leg. You fought the temptation to lay your head on his shoulder.

“This…”he continued, “where did this came from?”

“It’s complicated”, you sighed as he pulled a lock of hair out of your eyes.

“Got the time.”

Your time to bite your lip. In a slow motion, you stood up and dragged your feet to your living room. His eyes followed you in silence as you fronted the pictures on your wall, crossing your arms on your chest at the view of one of them. That was painful, but you couldn’t bring yourself to take it off.

“You know,” you started, not looking at him, “ with all the stuff we’ve…I’ve been going through, I received a lot of attention lately. “

On the black-and-white cliché, you were surely looking exhausted. Your hair was tangled and your dark rings were impressive. But you couldn’t get pass this touch of proudness you could read on your face.

“I almost died,” you explained. “Saved the rookie from the gunshot, got myself impaled on a brass rod. You saw the scar…that wasn’t pretty. “

“So much for the  _only bruises and concussion.”_

“Yeah. Sorry. Didn’t want to worry you.”

You heard the bench squeak behind you, but your eyes stayed on that picture, contemplating that younger you. The proudness wasn’t the single thing that could be catch up in your eyes : you seemed so strong…and, in a way, softer, too. But that softness must have had something to do with those bedsheets…with that needle still stuck in your arm…

“A lot of people took care of me. But, at that special moment, I felt…empty. I patched numerous soldiers; saved hundreds of people, been kissed and hugged my fair share, but…I don’t know. I needed to prove me I can still…open. Give back, sometime. Take care of someone.”

 “Lucky me.”

You jumped. The hunter had placed himself right behind you. You turned your face to face his : he was concerned by your state of mind. Above your shoulder, he just realised what you were looking at. Something in his features decomposed as the souvenir hit back. Of course, he remembered, but that one was buried very deep under a lot of missed occasions and other sacrifices.

You were alone, that night. But, in some way, he was everywhere in that hospital room.

Especially in that new bit of life you were holding in your arms.

“Any regrets?”, the hunter asked, his eyes still on the picture.

The tiredness of his voice hit you. You thought about the question a second, getting away from the wall to go sit on the couch. He didn’t followed, glued to the image of that glimpse of what your life could have been. Did you ever gave him a picture? Maybe not. You were avoiding that elephant in the room for sol long…Anyway, you haven’t kept a lot of picture. Most of them were hidden or long gone. But not this one. The first one. You couldn’t.

“No”, you said. “We couldn’t have kept her. Not with our job. And she's happy now, she has a good life.”

He nodded. You felt an irrepressible need to cuddle him. You’ve always been protective toward the hunter, even if you knew he was very able to take care of himself. Maybe that’s why you said yes, when you received the call when he invited you for a drink. Maybe you needed to see if he was ok, after all that time. Or maybe it was something else…

You heard him sigh before he closed his robe and joined you to the couch.

“How is your sister?”, he asked.

“She’s a wonderful mom,” you muttered. “She lets me see her whenever I want.”

You put your hand on his arm.

“You should come sometimes”, you say. “She’s a great kid.”

“I’m sure she is.”

But he wouldn’t come. You knew that. He remembered that other kid that wasn’t his, and the pain of knowing him apart.  The hunter always been a family man, and that was coming with the irony of keeping the one he loves away, to keep them safe. Or not to love at all. That was safer. But when he put his hand on yours, you thought that, maybe, he couldn’t anymore. That idea was silly, but it warmed your heart.

“That’s a brand new day,” he declared after clearing his throat. “What are you gonna do with it?”

You smiled.

“Well, I have a bartender to pay. “

“Maybe I should go with you. I could even stay a bit, to say hello. Or maybe I could even stay longer…” he added slowly.

He bit his lip, waiting for a reaction. Your smile enlarged. A sad smile, maybe. But a smile indeed.

“You staying here would only end up in a so-romantic drama, leaving us both in cry and pain, and me with maybe a little less memories of my own life than before. I ain’t no victim, you know. I made the choice to give you a little more, last night. That choice comes with consequences. “

As you said that, you were looking to the picture. Every choice has consequences. You knew that. He followed your glance.

“That’s unfair, and you know it,” he huffed. “Last night wasn’t only flirt and sex. We had casual sex before, that was nothing like it. You wanted to take care of me? You did. We…we shared something more. We…”

“Made love?”

You shook your head.

“Not quite. But we could. Easily. We could have sex again, on this couch, even. But that wouldn’t only be sex anymore, would it? We would want more. We would fall in love. Really soon. And we could even find a way to make it work. But someday, anyday, Sam’s gonna tell me some monster got you, or your gonna receive a call from the US government. And what would happen to the other one? We won’t stop wanting to protect people we don’t even know. Maybe we should protect ourselves a bit. Like we did for her.”

He nodded, knowing you were right, and stood up not looking at you. A minute later, he was dressed a ready to go. Passing by the wall, he grabbed the picture and shoved it inside his jacket. You let him do so. When he got away, you contemplated that emptiness on your wall. That seemed curiously metaphoric, echoing your life in such a painful way. That big hole in your life was nagging you, underlining your lack of guts when things were becoming a little too much feeling-envolved. That was your paradox. Wanting to give love, but no longer being able to accept it back. That wall was as empty as you were now.

 In a single movement, you joined the hunter in your entrance. He was bent, putting on his boots. While he was tying his shoelaces, you were still stuck on those big black boots that were obsessing you. Then, suddenly, everything was clearer in your mind: they represented a presence you repelled so strongly from your life, a presence that fit yours, but that you couldn’t accept.

“So,” he said as he straightened, “this is goodbye.”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Say hey to Bill for me.”

“Sure I will.”

He was staying there. Not moving, you neither. Finally, he clicked his tongue and turned to the door in an angry move.

“Son of a bitch…” he muttered as he put his hand on the doorknob. “This is ridiculous. I’m gonna come back for this. I’m gonna leave you some time to miss us, and I’m gonna come back. We are cowards. We’re not protecting each other. We’re protecting ourselves from something that could turn horribly wrong, forgetting how much great it could be. I know I hurt you. I know you’re still hurt from what we’ve done, I feel it too. But, for once in forever, you’ve let me in. I swear, when this nonsense is over, I’m gonna come back. “

He was leaving.

“Dean!”, you shouted.

The hunter sharply turned back to you. You had a thousand things to say. That you never were the self-pity kind, that he wasn’t himself. That he had told you those exact same words so many time, saying he couldn’t stay, that he had the world to save. That you thought he would understand right away, like he had wanted you to do when you had that discussion so many years ago. That he had changed, you couldn’t say how or why. That you hadn’t since that time when you had decided to drop that little girl in your sister arms, closing that special spot of your heart. That all of this was unfair, and that you wanted him so much to hug and kiss you, and that it was so girly, so stupid, and that you couldn’t help but stopping yourself from asking him so. But first and foremost, that he could stay. That you wanted him so much to stay.

Like in a dream, you opened your mouth.

“Don’t you ever call me again.”


End file.
